


Wolfpack

by Ruetknight



Category: overwatch
Genre: Angst, M/M, NaNoWriMo, Trust Issues, Werewolf AU, Werewolf Hanzo, hanzo is in charge, outlaw McCree, post omnic crises, slow, things went bad, werewolf mccree - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 16:52:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16496489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruetknight/pseuds/Ruetknight
Summary: The world around the gunslinger has always been rough. Aggressive with just a hint of venom. No one could be trusted and no one put their trust in you either, if they were smart. There was no pride in being weak and taking care of your fellows in his world, the world of the gun and taking what you need from those who could not hold onto it.The gunslinger knew he was different even in the outlaw world and he had to keep himself to himself. His furry condition, something he had been born with when other had not was a closely guarded secret. One, which other had speculated about before, but could never prove, even when they knew the signs.When he decides to rob the wrong town, everything Jesse McCree thought he knew about the world gets turned on its head as he flees. On the verge of death he is brought  into a valley that not only accepts him, but is protective of his kind.This does not mean that the outlaw trusts any of them, not even their white haired leader with his soft words and piercing eyes. Not even if Jesse McCree finds himself drawn to the man in all the wrong ways, ways that get you killed in the outside world.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just some housekeeping :)  
> This is my NaNoWriMo project this year  
> I am reposting the summary as the first chapter because I worked hard on it and then had to cut it down:(  
> Is is not edited as per NaNoWriMo ‘write first edit later’

Overwatch and the Omnic crises tore the world appart, leaving those who survived in small settlement scattered. Though the Omnic lost there was no way the humans could say they had won and not feel bitter. Those humans who were different natured lost even more.

The world around the gunslinger has always been rough. Aggressive with just a hint of venom. No one could be trusted and no one put their trust in you either, if they were smart. There was no pride in being weak and taking care of your fellows in his world, the world of the gun and taking what you need from those who could not hold onto it.

He had not been born into one of the settlements, had no family to call his own other than the outlaws he rode with and even then he would never go as far as to call them brothers, even with the words ‘in arms’ tacked onto the end to make it less intimate.

The gunslinger knew he was different even in the outlaw world and he had to keep himself to himself. His furry condition, something he had been born with when other had not was a closely guarded secret. One, which other had speculated about before, but could never prove, even when they knew the signs.

His canines were slightly too long, his hair too shaggy and his eyes too yellow.

When he decides to rob the wrong town, everything Jesse McCree thought he knew about the world gets turned on its head as he flees. On the verge of death he is brought into a valley that not only accepts him, but is protective of his kind.

This does not mean that the outlaw trusts any of them, not even their white haired leader with his soft words and piercing eyes. Not even if Jesse McCree finds himself drawn to the man in all the wrong ways, ways that get you killed in the outside world.


	2. Chapter 2

Branches whipped at McCree’s face as he pushed the horse through the forest, his heels digging into the animal’s sides, his spurs drawing blood. The animal below him screamed and McCree would have felt a twinge of guilt if he did not have the whole town behind him, shots flying through the air aimed at his head.

One of the shots hit their mark and pain flares in his shoulder but Jesse pushes on, rather a bullet to the shoulder than a noose around his neck. If he was bleeding at least he was still alive enough to ride. He just needed to get away, put the town and the band of men following him as far being him as he could.

They should have known better.

They should have seen the signs.

But they were all so arrogant and now he, Jesse McCree was the only one left.

The town had been too quiet, no one out and about doing daily errands and those who were made sure they scuttled quickly out of view. The people to nerves, but they were the dreaded Deadlock Gang after all and they had been too full of themselves to think that they were walking into an ambush. Now everyone but Jesse McCree was dead or dying in the dirt in front of the bank.

He cursed the Deadlock Gang as he raced on. He should have left them a month ago, but they had seemed invincible and Jesse had become compliant. He had been lucky up until this point, but now he was paying as much as they had back there.

If not for his condition, Jesse would have been among them, but he had smelled the gun power in the air and hung back, letting those, he rode with take the bullets instead. He had jumped on the first horse he could turn to face out of town and rode like hell. He would let his conscious morn them if he got away, but for right now he needed to safe his own neck. He was not out of danger yet, in fact it was closing in around him.

Either they had expected this outcome or the horse he stole was the slowest in the world. He was leaning heavily to the latter as one of the riders pulls up next to him, grabbing at the reins. Jesse pulled his gun from it’s holster and a faceful of shot later the rider topples from his horse and McCree pushes his spurs in deeper.

He knew he was not going to lose them, not on this horse, but he didn’t need to lose them, he just needed to get deeper in the forest. He just needed to make sure there were no clear line of sight so he could transform and slink off without every wolf in a quarter mile radius ends up shot, himself included.

The next man to catch him has more sense than the last, coming up on his bleeding side and shoving him, instead of grabbing at the reigns. McCree loses his balance as the pain of his wound flairs angerly, toppling from the horse.  Jesse barely managed a roll, his wound screaming, but it is enough to keep him out from under stomping hooves and with a little effort he is back on his feet, his lungs on fire but he didn’t have time to worry about breathing as the man turned his horse and bore down on him.

“Shit,” he swears, the words lost in the noise and dust as he starts running, cutting into the trees. The man who toppled him was right behind him, the trees in his way seemingly of no concern as the horse swerved after McCree. Seeming to have enough of this, the man raised his gun and fired.

Pain flared anew in Jesse’s body and for a moment, he was grateful for the pain. Better to have pain, to know you are still alive, and then he falls onto the ground, his leg unable to support him. The man who shot him wanted him alive, probably to drag him back to town and hang him as an example.

 He wanted to change, he stood more of a change on four legs and he would not be bleeding, but if he did, they would skin him alive first and then hang him regardless. He had seen the corpses before, had smelled the burnt pelts and had been at one of these executions once, because you only needed to see it once to know what happened to those caught by humans, to know what would happen to him if he showed himself as a werewolf. It was not worth the torture he would endure, because he knew he was not getting out of this forest alive. Not as he reached the edge of a sharp drop.

He had nowhere to go. Rather hang.

Jesse dropped to his knees, breathing heavily. The men behind him dropped from their mounds and McCree waited for them to close in and overpower him, perhaps pressing into his wounds, perhaps grounding his face into the dirt, perhaps worse, perhaps rougher than needed.

He was sure they would not get him all the way back to town. He could taste blood now, bubbling up from his lungs. The shot to his shoulder must have past through him, catching on his lungs. He spat up blood, thick with saliva and grinned a red smile at those coming for him.  

 

The howl cuts through Jesse, loud and bone piercing. He knows if for more than a wolf, but it is no kind of howl he had ever heard. There was no fear or anger like his kind always seemed to carry, just pure command.

The men paused in their advance, turned as one and remounted their horses. A few angry glances were levelled at Jesse but nothing was said and he was left sitting in the underbrush in total and utter confusion.

 

“What just happened?” He asked to no one in particular as more blood passed past his lips in a cough. With great effort, he stretched his legs out in front of him. The shot to his leg was weeping steadily too, with no signs of stopping. He tore at the remains of his pant leg with numb fingers but it was all bloody and his vision was starting to swim, dark edges blurring his vision.

 

“Guess I am too far gone for them to care about dragging me back.” He muses to himself, leaning heavily to the side before righting himself. He needed to change into his wolf form. The twisting and stretching of flesh and bone would allow his body to repair itself and close the wounds. It would not replace the blood he had lost, but he would not die like a sheep sitting in the brush. The thing was he was too far-gone already; he could barely keep his eyes open, never mind focus enough to make himself change.

 

“They left you because you have crossed into my domain,” A commanding voice tell him. It contained him the same tone as the howl he heard before, no fear or anger, just confidence. McCree wondered if it was death he heard. Perhaps the howl had been only for his ears, some kind of god of wolves calling him home. It was a nice thought and he could get behind the thought. He had never believed in anything but it would be nice to have someone there at the end.

 

Jesse closed his eyes as he sank back into the underbrush. He was so tired, so weak, but as he lay down he saw someone coming towards him. Not one of his pursuers, no a man with long flowing white hair… if it was a man. He felt wolves around him, perhaps they were only spirits to drag him death. Perhaps the man with the white hair was death. Perhaps he was already dead. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps…

 


	3. Chapter 3

“He’s very handsome, brother,” a voice far away that McCree assumes we’re the wolf gods who decided if he went to heaven or hell. This was not the voice who first spoke to him before. Was this the voice that would drag him to hell? It seemed too nice.

“That is not why I brought him here. He is one of us and he was dying on our doorstep,” the honeyed voice of before spoke.

“He did deserve it, he is an outlaw and a horse thief.”

“What he did on the outside is of little consequence to me. If he follows the rules we have in place to protect ourselves it is good enough for me. If not, I will take him back to the town to be hanged myself,” the commanding tone was back in the voice.

McCree was confused, just what kind of heaven or hell was he in that he could be taken back to the town to die if he misbehaved?

He tried to push himself to the surface of his consciousness, to open his eyes and see the gods deciding his fate for himself, but when he pushed the agony of his body flooded his senses and a scream drowns out everything but his agony.

The world explodes into red and though he can hear nothing through the endless scream, can feel nothing but the pain he somehow knows that the gods are beside him, if not in a panic about his pathetic life then at least mildly concerned.

As the red dies away into darkness McCree is sure he is dying.

  
When next he opens his eyes McCree can only vaguely recall his decent into death, if that was what it truly was and not just a fever dream brought on by blood loss and the agony of being shot. He of all people should know there is no such things as gods.

The cowboy sits up, expecting a jail cell or a dirty root cellar, but he is surprised by a wooden room, neat and clean if a little dim. He supposed sunlight would not have been welcome in his state as he lies back down the world a fresh blossom of dizziness and pain.

He could tell his wounds had been dressed, the bandages itchy against his sweat stained skin. He had no idea how long he had been asleep, where he was, who was taking care of him or if he was a prisoner, but he knew one thing: you don’t keep a man alive and mend his wounds if you intend to kill him.

The softness of the sheets seems to reaffirm this as he allows himself to sink into the linen. He was being looked after by someone and that was all that mattered until he could get the hell out of there.

Jesse closed his eyes and slept.

  
The room was the same when he woke, but for one thing. Food sat on a small table by the edge of his bed and the gunslinger sat up and pulled it towards him gratefully.

The broth was warm and rich, laden with vegetables and meat, and the bread was oven fresh and just cooled enough to allow the little pat of butter that came with his meal to melt into it.

McCree could not recall the last time he had eaten anything that wasn’t cold, hard or greasy. He ate slowly, savoring the treat for as long as he could. Soon he would be well enough to leave.

After finishing his meal he swings his legs over the side of the bed and inspects the wound. The bandage was fresh and as he peeled it back he was released that it seemed more a precaution that a necessity. It was healing nicely and as a test he lifted himself.

The pain that flaired up had him sitting back down, sweat breaking out over his brow and he sinks back into the pillows behind him. He was not yet there, but soon, soon he would be well.

As he drifted back into sleep he wondered how long he had been there for the wound to have healed that much. A week, maybe two? Had he been sleeping for the most of it? Why had he seen no one yet?

The last one bothers him as he drifts off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a short one, I am tired. I just moved so still unpacking. I will have more tomorrow, but I also need to work on other fics... oh boy NaNoWriMo is stressful this year.
> 
>  
> 
> Also if you enjoy my work, consider buying me a ko-fi, I will draw you a noodle dragon as a thank you http://ko-fi.com/ruetknight 
> 
> If you would like to see my art, I am on Instagram ruetknight


	4. Chapter 4

****

When McCree woke again the room was the same as it had been, a table with food, warm and smelling delicious but his previous thoughts made him weary.

He had not seen a soul since he was hunted down and though this room was nice, he had the growing suspicion that he was a prisoner.

Ignoring the food, no matter how mouth wateringly tempting it was he pulled himself out from under the covers, ignoring the creeks and pain as he hobbled over to the door, slowly and unsteadily.

Locked.

He had expected as much.

Using the wall to lean against Jesse moves carefully around the room. The windows were high and even if he could reach them he was too big to fit through, even in his wolf form. The walls were also too sturdy to break through.

Finding no way out Jesse returned to his bed, sinking down into the soft bedding grateful to be off his feet.

He pushed the food away from himself, his stomach growling in protest. He could wait out his captors, whoever they might be. If he didn’t eat on his own eventually someone would have to come in and feed or threaten him. He would just have to wait.

Besides, being hungry was nothing knew to the gunslinger. He had grown up on the streets in a world where charity and compassion was not something freely offered. There were plenty of orphans and he had a disadvantage that made him even less desirable, though better able to take care of himself.

Where others had to bed for their meals, he could shift and hunt. Rats were an easy target if you didn’t think too hard about what you were eating and like the orphans they were everywhere.

When he was bold enough he would hunt out in the forest, but back then wolves were shot on sight, even a cub like himself could bite a bullet with no forewarning.  
  
Thus he stuck to the cities, where his size let him pass for just another stray until he grew large enough, at least as a man, to take care of himself.

Hunger would not bother him, he told himself as he closed his eyes and let himself drift back into sleep.

  
The next time he awoke his resolve to not eat and starve himself until someone showed themselves so that he could get some answers was not as strong as it had been.

The food on the table had been refreshed and the aroma was heavenly. His mouth waters but Jesse McCree is nothing if not stubborn and he turns on his side, facing away from the table and it’s temptations deliberately, not even trying to see what was on offer. It would break his resolve.

Instead he spends his waking hours telling himself that he was not weak and could resist, but starving on purpose is different from starving on the streets.

Soon he can feel the itch of tickling at his mind. His rationale telling him that this was foolish, that he was suffering needlessly, there was food right there and his jailers would not be able to keep him locked up for the rest of his days without him seeing someone. Sooner or later he would be healed and they would show themselves.

Jesse pushed these thoughts away. There were no guarantees, even if he starved himself they might never show themselves, but at least by doing this he was on his own terms, not a glorified pet. They could feed and water him, but he was in control if he ate it.

McCree lay on his bed, unsure of how long he had been there, been awake or how long he would still be there. The day out the high windows drew long and dark, night was coming but no one came to change the now cold food or to talk to him.

The gunslinger desperately tried to stay awake, to give his captors no choice but to show themselves, but they must have been watching him.

Eventually he drifted off and when he woke there was fresh food waiting for him.

For how long this continued was hard to say, Jesse was never sure. He grew weaker every time he woke, eventually barely opening his eyes.

It was then that he finally got what he wanted.

He knows at once someone is in the room with him. The commanding presence he had felt before when he was sure he was dying and god had come for him.

“Am I dead?” he asked stupidly before he could stop the words coping out of his mouth.

“Not yet, but with your wounds you will die soon if you keep spurning my hospitality.”

McCree drags himself up into a sitting position and faces the man. He is struck by just how beautiful he is. His hair is long, tied up in a ponytail and flowing down his back, it’s color pure white.

His features are elegant and foreign, giving his commanding voice, striking features to accompany them. Yellow lines his eyes and his dress is obviously traditional, though McCree can’t place it.

If he didn’t know any better perhaps he had just come face to face with god after all.   
__

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so behind on where I want to be but I am so tired. There are still moving boxes everywhere and I just can’t hit target I can barely think. Will try to do better tomorrow. Sorry


	5. Chapter 5

“If you keep spurning my hospitality you will die. I would rather have that I did not save your life in vain,” the man said quietly, his bright eyes studying McCree. There was something otherworldly about him.

”if it is all the same to you, your prisoner would rather die on his own terms, thank you very much,” McCree answered, trying to put as much bravado in his voice as he could under the circumstances.

”You are not a prisoner here, Jesse McCree,” the man answered and there was a flicker of... something in his face. Anger? Shock? It was had to say for sure.

”Then why is the door locked?” Jesse asked. He let the fact that the man knew his name slide, he was an outlaw after all and the bounty on his head was enjoy to make even the most remote county bumpkin sit up and take note. Not that this man fit that discription.

The man took a deep breath as if he was dealing with a particular nosy child before he spoke.

”You are not a prisoner, but you are an unknown variable to those seeking refuse here. They would rather not have You wondering around unattended just yet.”

”I didn’t seek refuse,” McCree argued. He had a creeping feeling crawling up his spine. He had known there were at least two men here, wherever here was, from his fever dream, but just how many were there and just what kind of refuse did this stranger offer them?

Jesse had heard the rumors, same as everyone else. Cults hidden away deep in the forests, serving everything from omnics to having orgies and breeding to repopulate the world with believers with their particular brand of crazy. He hoped he had not stumbled on one.

“Oh?” the man said and the incredulousness was plain in his voice. “You reach my doorstep, a brother in a dire situation. You were about to be killed by those men who you angered through your actions and they were right to be angry if your reputation is any indication of your character. If you wish to shun my help I will have you returned to them then,” the man said angerly and there was no mistaking his resolve. He would do it.

He made to rise But McCree held out his hands beconning him to sit down.

”Now hold up there, let’s not be hasty,” There was something in his words that stuck McCree as odd. An implication that the cowboy had missed something which should have been obvious before.

he studied the man carefully and it jumped out at him when he gazed into those eyes. The stranger closed his dark eyes for a second and when he opened them there was no mistaking what he was, not with those yellow eyes staring back At McCree.

”You are like me,” McCree gasped, blinking his own eyes yellow. It was a way of identifying you to your own kind, but it was dangerous too. You could very easily reveal yourself to a human if you misread them.

The cowboy fought the sudden urge to turn on his back to show submission to the stranger. McCree had fought all his days against his submissive nature, but just this once he would have admitted that the other werewolf in the room was clearly the dominant wolf.

“In some ways, yes we are alike, but not in all. For one I am not a horse thief,” the words stung, Jesse had only stolen the horse to escape dead after all. “And I do not antagonise humans. All I do is protect my valley and make it a safe haven for our kind. No human will ever set foot here and you will not endanger it.”

”You have a low opinion of me,” Jesse accused. The stranger considered for a moment.

”Yes,” he finally answered.

”Then why save me?”

”because you were on the edge of my domain and I never turn any of our kind away and,” he paused for a long moment, to the point were Jesse was wondering if he was going to add what he was considering. When he did finally speak McCree was not expecting the words. “And you are exceptionally beautiful. I would very much like to see your wolf form under the moonlight.”

”wait, you saved me because you think I am pretty?” McCree asked flabbergasted. That was a new one.

”It is one of the reasons,” the stranger admitted.

”Then let me out,” this earned a chuckle.

”Oh Jesse McCree, do not for one moment think that because you are handsome to me that I trust you. You will eat your food when it is brought to you and when I return on the morrow we will consider the terms of your freedom.”

The man rose from his seat and placed a table with food in front of the cowboy. McCree’s stomach growled painfully and he fell on the meal with little restraint as the man turned to leave, knocking on the door.

 

”Wait,” McCree called around a bite of food. The stranger looked disgusted but Jesse could hardly care. If he could get out of the room he could escape. He would play along.

”What is your name? I should know who to thank for saving my life,” this seemed to please the stranger.

”You may call me, Hanzo,” the man answered before he left the room, the door shutting tightly behind him.


	6. Chapter 6

Jesse was no fool, but it seemed that neither was Hanzo. The cowboy sat upright on his bed, watching the door closely, the empty tray of food as far away from the door as possible. Who ever had to come and collect it would have to walk into the room and he was waiting for them.

  
If he could escape, the cowboy decided, before he was released under Hanzo’s terms he could be long gone before anyone was the wiser. He has gained back enough strength that he would change and nothing could stop him when he was running. All he needed a gap to get his feet on the ground.

  
Hanzo had apparently anticipated this. The next meal brought to him was accompanied by three guards. One of them’s face was scared heavily, deep claw marks racked diagonally down his cheek, disappearing below the long sleeve shirt that hid his skin from view. The other two were large and unremarkable.

  
“If you are thinking about escaping before Hanzo deems you complaisant you will be back in that bed with more injuries than when you left,” the scarred man warned. There was a familiarity to his voice.

  
“Wouldn’t dream of leaving, it’s so nice an cozy in here and the people are just so friendly,” Jesse said with a casual grin.

So much for that idea.

  
“I am not my brother, Hanzo thinks everyone deserves a second chance, to be given a chance at redemption. It is not always the way. Sometimes it is better to leave the snake to freeze outside than to let it bite you in bed,” the scarred man spat.

  
“Don’t worry, I don’t plan on crawling into bed with your brother,” McCree said with as much friendliness as he could muster.

  
The man looked like he was considering these words while still glaring as hard as he could. It was intimidating but McCree had no interest in staying long enough to bed Hanzo or anyone else.

  
“You do not know who my brother is, so you?”

  
“Darlin’ I don’t even know where I am, some werewolf sanctuary by the sound of it. I honestly don’t care. If it is all the same I would like to get well enough to leave,” There was no point to pretend that he had any other plans, this man clearly did not want him here.

  
“Then do so quickly, it will be the smartest thing you have ever done,” the man said harshly. He motioned for the men to retreat and they left Jesse alone with his food and thoughts.

  
Just were the hell did he land up? Maybe it was a cult after all… and just who was Hanzo? Someone important that his scar faced brother wanted to protect. If he wasn’t so desperate to leave he would be mighty curious. Specially since the brother was not sure if he was going to be made to stay like a prisoner or be allowed to leave.

 


	7. Chapter 7

The next moment of interest which broke the tedium of his captivity was raised voices approaching his door.

“I am telling you brother do not trust him,”

“I will take your advice under consideration but this is my decision,” a softer voice said, calm and collected. Hanzo.

“Then at least take the vote into consideration. The people fear him, he is not like us,” the scar faced man said.

“He is very much like us Genji. He is lost and has done what he must to survive. The world outside will kill him, not for his deeds but for his nature, our nature. You wear those scars because humans convinced me we needed to die simply because we exist,” There was a sadness in Hanzo’s voice.

“I have forgiven you brother,” Genji said just as softly, “but he has done bad things by human standard. He is an outlaw not because he is a werewolf.”

“I will do what I must, for the good of this sanctuary… even if I do not agree.”

“It will be for the best Hanzo.”

There was a long silence outside of his room and McCree supposed it was the time it took for Genji to depart and Hanzo to compose himself. His heart was beating in his throat. This was dangerous and he was trapped.

Hanzo entered the room, looking tired. He gave Jesse a small smile as he placed the table with food down I front of him.

“You are quite to topic for debate. I hear from my brother Genji that he visited you today,” he said conversationally as he folded his arms into the large sleeves of his shirt and perched himself on the foot of the bed as Jesse ate. The cowboy was mindful not to talk with his mouth full again.

“He doesn’t seem like a fan.”

“Genji is careful. He has been hurt both at my own hand and those of humans in the past. He has a right to be concerned. I have made some enquiries, you are quite dangerous. How many people have you killed?” Hanzo turned his sharp eyes on McCree and Hanzo just stared back at him for a long moment.

“Never killed anyone who would not have killed me, given half a second.”

“How many?”

“15… 21 if you count me not warning the pose I rode with that I smelled gunpowder back in the town,” Jesse said honestly.

“Would warning them have made a difference?” Hanzo asked, still watching him keenly.

“Another dead body and less hassles for you I would imagine,” Jesse said leveling his own gaze at Hanzo. The man smiled dryly.  
“That would have been a very likely outcome. I wonder if my brother will come to find your words humorous.”

“Well darlin’, let me out and I will tell him all the jokes you want. I’m sure I will find one that will amuse him,” Jesse said with his best charming smile. He was so close to freedom he could taste it.

“Are you sure that this is what you want Jesse? Freedom is not always what we need,” Hanzo warned, “ very well.”

Hanzo rose to his feet and walked to the door. He wrapped on it and the wood door opened. Genji stepped into the space followed by two guards.

“You can put the collar on him, he has asked for his freedom,” Hanzo said with a last, mournful glance behind him.

Collar.

The word burned into Jesse’s brain and he was up in a flash, knocking the remaining food and crockery to the ground.

Collar.

The word was foul. Humans, or perhaps it was the omnics, had created a devise for control. Once fitted a werewolf could not transform and lost some of their strength, making them weak and easier to control.

“No you can’t,” Jesse yelled as he pressed himself into a corner, the three closing in on him. He dived them, his shoulder connecting with Genji, pain flaring through his wound.

He was no match for them as he fought, three strong werewolves against a hurt one. Soon they pressed his head into the floorboards, Jesse struggling in vain.

“Hanzo please, be reasonable,” he cried as a knee dug into his back, holding his arms behind him as Genji lifted his head by the hair and nodded to the final guard who brought the collar forward.

The leather snapped around the cowboy’s neck and instantly he felt his strength leaving him as if he had been shocked and left weakened.

“It is for your own good,” Genji tells him, letting Jesse’s head fall to the floor. The scarred man gathered his two friends and they stepped around Jesse as they left.

Whimpering McCree lay on the floor. He had made so many mistakes in his life, had more than a couple regrets, but the path that lead him here had always been his choice.

Now he was dependent on another, no werewolf could remove his own collar and fleeing to find help would meant exposing himself as a werewolf to any human he came across, why else would he be wearing the damned thing in the first place if not a wolf?

He stayed on the floor, aware the door is open but his freedom is gone.

Soft footsteps draw his attention.

“I am sorry, but I have to think of the others I am protecting here,” Hanzo said above him.

“Then take me back to the forest, let me leave. I didn’t ask to come here.”

“I cannot. The townspeople only allowed me to take you with the promise that I will keep you here. If you do leave you will hang. If you escape and word of you being out in the world reaches them they will burn this valley to the ground,” Hanzo said. He kneeled beside McCree and slowly helped him to his feet.

“So I am your collared pet now!” McCree sneered, extracting himself from Hanzo as soon as he was upright.

“It was never my intention. Genji and the others fear you. They held a vote and they all voted to place the collar around your neck.”

“I thought you were the leader here, you could have stopped this,” McCree said sourly.

“I could have, but they had a point. You are a danger to us. I just hope by bringing you here I didn’t endanger everything I have built here,” Hanzo said solemnly.

He left McCree standing in the room as he walked to the door.

“I will lock this door one final time. To allow you to get use to the collar. Tomorrow morning I will take you into the valley. If you are good you will earn your freedom from the device.”

“And if I am bad?” McCree asked hotly.

“There are worse things in this valley than the collar around your neck Jesse McCree. I am one of them. I am being lenient and understanding because I pity you, but take a good look at Genji the next time you see him. I am responsible for those injuries and I am very well capable of inflicting them on you.”

With no further words Hanzo closed the door behind him, leaving McCree to dwell on that warning.


	8. Chapter 8

McCree was waiting for Hanzo the next morning. He had found his clothes cleaned and neatly folded in the dresser next to his bed. He scoffed as he pulled his serape around his shoulders. It felt wrong. It was stiff and itchy against his skin. They had even cleaned his hat, though this seemed to annoy him less as it felt the same on his head as it always did.

Peacemaker was missing which made Jesse grunt in frustration. The gun meant something to him and he missed the weight at his side as he shifted. The collar was stiff around his neck and his serape itched. All in all he was not having the best of mornings by the time the door opened.

“Good morning Jesse McCree, did you sleep well?” Hanzo asked. He was much less formally dressed than he had been before. His long hair was pulled into a high ponytail and the clothes he wore, while still traditional was simple. His pants were lose and the shirt he wore crossed over in the front, tying together with a belt. The only modern thing was his boots which were metal and glossy.

Jesse cared little about his captor’s appearance, as distracting as he ppotentially could find it if circumstances were different.

“Where is Peacemaker?” He asked gruffly.

“What is a peacemaker?” Hanzo asked. To his annoyance the man did not seem to notice his gruff manner, or if he did he did not let it upset him.

“My gun, where is my gun?”

“In my possession and I assure you, quite safe.”

“Give it back,” McCree insisted, stepping forward. He was a good head taller than Hanzo and under normal circumstances he would make quick work of the man, but there was the collar and something in Hanzo’s manner and eyes warned him to back off.

“You are in no position to make demands, Jesse McCree. In time, when we have seen if we can trust you or give you to the towns people, you will have your gun returned to you.”

Jesse was taken aback.

“Hold on, you would let them kill me? After the effort of bringing me here?”

Hanzo looked saddened as he chose his words.

“That would be entirely up to you. Believe me, I would not revel in it, but if you give me no choice we will hand you over. What they do with you would not be my choice.”

Jesse chewed on this. Part of him wanted to fight Hanzo, it was what he had always done. He was a hard man, he knew he was, but perhaps this was the time to use his head. Sure acting up would get him out of the valley as Hanzo had called it, but he would prefer to leave without the noose already around his next.

Perhaps he should play nice and get the collar removed. Hanzo seemed to regret it’s fitting and would be his best bet to get it removed. Jesse was not above sweet talking to get what he wanted. He could play up to Hanzo until the collar was removed and his gun was back in his hand and then he would leave. If the town found out he was gone, well he owed no loyalty to his captures.

Decided he nodded slowly, put his hands up and stepped away from Hanzo.

“I suppose I can give your way a try,” he mumbled.

The look Hanzo gave him was not one of trust, but then McCree didn’t expect it to be. He could play the long game. He had a bed, food and a roof over his head. Join that with no were in particular to be and he could make the best out of a bed situation.

“Follow me,” Hanzo said, the authority in his voice not quite as commanding as it had been before.

The room led out into a hallway and as McCree followed he realised that this was a much larger structure than he had anticipated. The room had been wooden but stone surrounded him. Hanzo led him downs some steps and into a large open room, clearly an entrance of some sort. A throne sat in the middle of the back wall with a large mural of a green and blue dragon on the wall behind it.

“You build all of this?” McCree asked with a low whistle.

“We brought it to the valley, this is the castle Genji and I were born in, the village outside where we grew up. It was transported to this valley to protect our heratige.”

Jesse had so many questions, he stood admiring the dragon mural as he ordered his thoughts.

“Brought here? How? Magic?” was the first one he could come up with.

“Something like that yes. I must admit I do not understand it all myself,” Hanzo said coming to stand next to the cowboy. There was a stillness to the man that made McCree very aware of his presents.

“What’s with the dragons?”

“A symbol of my clan. Werewolves are not… celebrated in my culture. It was believed that the noble dragon was a more suitable form and that one day we may achieve it if we lived an honorable and noble life.”

“You would become something more desirable if you where a good little boy and did what you were told. If you follow the rules and behaved then you would be rewarded, if not… well… you would get exactly what you deserved,” McCree said with a grimace.

“A nice fairy tale yes, but a punishing one. We cannot change our natures and we were made to suffer for them. This valley will not punish you for how you were born,” Hanzo said firmly.

“Then why keep the mural?”

“Respect for the past,” Hanzo answered quietly.

McCree didn’t understand, but something in Hanzo’s manner told him not to continue on on this particular subject. There was pain behind his eyes and the warning that Hanzo could inflict that pain on McCree was still fresh in the cowboy’s mind. Besides, he was aiming to get on the man’s good side.

“You said your heratige. Where are you from exacty? Your accent ain’t exactly local and your features are…”, Jesse paused as he reached around for the right word.

“Exhautic?” Hanzo offered.

“Beautiful,” Jesse said, settling on flattery rather than something that might be considered an insult. It had the desired effect. Hanzo turned his head, just the lightest dusting of a blush on his cheeks as he glanced at McCree.

In the dim light of morning the words were true. Hanzo was a very attractive man. Under different circumstances Jesse would have felt attracted to him, but this man stood in the way of his freedom and Jesse could not, would not let this pretty face sway him.

“I am Japanese,” Hanzo finally answered.

Jesse let out another long low whistle.

“Far from home,” he said but the man shook his head.

“I am standing in it.”

Hanzo lead McCree silently out of the castle as he called it, through a courtyard and into a square. Genji was inspecting what could only be considered to be gaurds, giving them their morning debriefing.

“Brother,” Genji greeted when he spotted Hanzo, hurrying to his side with only a side long dirty glare at Jesse.

“Genji, do you not greet our new addition?” Hanzo said diplomatically but the scar faced man was having none of it.

“He is your guest brother. If he becomes an addition to the valley is entirely up to how he behaves. Until he proves himself I will consider him an outsider.”

If mccree had thought that Hanzo would defend him he was sorely mistaken. The elder brother merely nodded at his brother’s harsh words.

“Jesse McCree will proof himself worthy of our trust,” Hanzo said, turning yellow eyes on the cowboy. Just for a moment Jesse questioned everything. Just why was this Hanzo guy so insistent that Jesse could be trusted? Specially since he had done his homework and probably knew about all of the unsavoury acts the cowboy had performed. Was this a test? A way to set the cowboy up for failure so he could hand him over to the town with a clear conscience? That was a chilling thought that McCree had to force himself to smile through.

“I will be on my best behaviour,” he said sweetly.

“If you want that collar removed you will have to be,” Genji answered with a scowl. For just a split second Hanzo scowled back at his brother. It was a blink and you miss it moment but McCree had very sharp eyes. He knew the brothers didn’t see exactly eye to eye from their exchange from before but maybe he could use this against them, if he needed. Sow distrust between the two. That was not exactly his style, he had always been more of a charmer, but there was a possibility if nothing else worked out.

“I have accepted that, thank you for the reminder though. Always nice to be told what is expected from me. I will be a good little boy and do what I am told,” McCree said as humbly as he could, choosing his words carefully. As he hoped there was a spark of recognition in Hanzo’s eyes. Their earlier talk about the mural was still fresh in his mind and that mirrored nicely what Jesse just said.

“I will keep my eyes on you,” Genji said roughly as he turned and returned to the men.

“You will have to excuse my brother. He has an edge that only smooths after he has had time to adjust to you pressance,” Hanzo said appoligetically as he led the cowboy into the town beyond the castle gate. Even here the structures carried the old arcutecture that the castle bore. It was truly as if the whole town had been moved into the valley by unknown forces.

Hanzo was careful to tell McCree who each… for lack of a better term, shop owner was and what they provided. At the baker they paused and Hanzo procured their breakfast, warm savoury pastries that had Jesse blowing on his finger tips as he handled them. Hanzo smiled warmly as he thanked the baker and took a basket in which they deposited their breakfast in to let it cool.

As they walked Jesse noticed the glances and looks of mistrust but he smiled just as warmly as Hanzo did and said every polite pleasantry he knew and by the end of his tour throught the town he knew at least some of the townsfolk questioned if he was as dangerous as his reputation made him out to be.

Hanzo lead him back to the castle and they settled in the small courtyard outside of the entrance to the building proper.

“What do you think of my domain?” Hanzo asked as he handed McCree a pastry.

“It is real peaceful, the bit I saw. Do you have farm lands? Forests?” The cowboy asked before biting into the food. It was good, just like everything else he had tasted. He had to give it to them, they did food right. On the outside everything had a lingering taste of oil and death. Some believed that the omnic had spoiled the land with more than just their weapons but had poisoned the land. If taste was anything to go on Jesse would agree.

“Both, we hunt and we farm, both strictly controlled to produce the best results and make sure that we can sustain ourselves for generations to come. I am hoping that this little pocket of protection will last generations to come,” the hopefulness in Hanzo’s voice gave Jesse pause. He had selfishly decided he didn’t care about what happened to the valley after his escape and he still didn’t but even though he was there against his will the reason for it’s existence seemed noble.

“It is a lovely dream,” he mumbled.

“I understand if you do not care for my dream,”  Hanzo said solomly, much to Jesse’s surprise, “You see yourself as a prisoner, which given the collar you have every right to. I do however you understand the purpose of this place.”

Jess scratched his hair under his hat.

“Not really. I mean, to protect werewolves. That I get. We get a raw deal out in the world, but that’s the ones dumb enough to expose themselves,” Jesse knew this was the wrong thing to say as a sour look crossed the other man’s features.

“Not all of us want to hide who we are,” Hanzo said, “Or can.” He rose to his feet and wiped crumbs from his hands onto his knees. Jesse followed suite.

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” McCree began but the other man stopped him.

“I am not offened, but I want you to understand, really understand. Come,” Hanzo said sternly. He turned and walked and just for a moment Jesse wondered what would happen if he didn’t follow, but that wasn’t an option and he took a few large strides to catch up.

Hanzo didn’t talk now, simply leading Jesse at a quick pace until they were at a part of the castle that had McCree stop dead in his tracks.

“I don’t want to continue,” He said, his nose picking up and describing to him what he would find inside. The fire and the screams he tried to block from his mind danced behind his eyes and he was only pulled from it by Hanzo’s warm hand on his arm.

“You have been to a burning,” Hanzo stated, it wasn’t a question. McCree nodded, his mouth dry. He could smell the cooked flesh, could taste the agony.

“Don’t show me this,” he croacked out his plea.

“If you want that collar off you need to fully understand,” Hanzo insisted. He put an arm around McCree’s shoulder and al but dragged him forward. The cowboy dug in his heels but there was no denying the other man.

A girl in her late teens with dark skin lay in a bed, her mother beside her. Bandages cover most of her and she was moaning in her sleep. The mother looked up as they entered and Jesse could feel the recultion pushing up inside of him, her eye had been torn from it’s socket. A bandage hung around her neck and a blonde doctor stood before her, in the middle of an exhamination.

“Hanzo, greetings,” The doctor said as she set to bandaging the mother’s eye, “and Jesse, good to see you up and moving.”

“How is Fareeha today, Angela? And Ana? You recovering?” Hanzo asked and his manner was full of concern.

“Fareeha is recovering, she should be up and about soon,” Angela answered.

Jesse could not hide his disbelieve as he stared at the girl. She had been burned and by the looks of it she had been burned badly, how was this Angela so sure she would recover? Was this all for the mother’s sake?

“I cannot thank you enough Hanzo, if not for you we would both be ashes,” Ana said, coming up and clashing Hanzo’s hand. She gave Jesse a stern look. “You are the outlaw our Hanzo deems worth the effort of saving?”

“I believe so ma’am,” McCree answered sheepishly.

“I will shoot you myself if you endanger any one here. This is the first safe spot Fareeha and I have ever known. Have you seen a burning? Imagine living through one. I will never expose Fareeha to one again and I will kill anyone that endagers her,” Ana spat, her eye boring into McCree’s very soul. She knew he was planning on leaving as soon as he could. He would have to tread lightly and avoid her as much as he could.

He looked back at the girl. The pain she was going through was so clear he could not help himself.

“Will she really make it? She is so hurt,” he said and something in Ana softened.

“She has a long recovery, but this valley is magial, isn’t it Hanzo? She will recover in time, with Angela’s help.”

“I only do what is needed to provide healing, it is up to Fareeha to get better, but she is strong and she will pull through,” the doctor said kindly. She took Ana by the shoulders and directed her to her seat back beside her daughter, “If you two would excuse us I need to complete my examination.

Jesse was glad when Hanzo closed the door behind them, though he could still smell the burnt girl.

“Do you understand?” Hanzo asked, his bright yellow eyes on McCree.

“A place away from humans who burn us, I understand.”

“A place to heal, a place where they can rebuild their family. Ana lost her husband to the fire before I could reach them. Fareeha is in great pain and will need a lot of care. The valley provides them a safe place to regain themselves.”

“Why endanger it by bringing me here then?” Jesse asked honestly. He stared at the door as if he could see through it to those inside.

“Because you need healing too, Jesse. Not just from your wounds. You have a wound in your very soul. None of us should see our kind burn and you were very young when you did,” Hanzo said in his quiet manner. Jesse turned to stare at the man. No one knew this, how did Hanzo?

“It was your father, yes? Your mother held you back, told you to watch and remember what happens when you are weak. When you reply on others. She told you that if you trusted anyone, stayed in one place too long this would be what happened to you. Then she left your side and walked into the fire and embraced her husband. No one stopped her. The crowd just cheered louder.”

Jesse was pale by the time Hanzo finished speaking, his legs barely holding up his weight.

“How did… how did you find out?” Jesse stammered.

“I know many things Jesse. I know you plan on charming me to escape. I know you care nothing for our safety. I also know that in time you will change your mind.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am back on track for Nanowrimo... what a ride.


	9. Chapter 9

McCree looked around the small group of men he found himself surrounded by. It was a week after Hanzo had taken him on a tour of the valley, which he had learned was referred to as Hanamura, and he was fit enough by the doctor’s reckoning that he could start contributing to their society.

  
He didn’t mind as such. He was slow at building a trust with the town folk, and even more so if not at all with their leader. Hanzo was wary of him and rightly so. Jesse had planned on getting on his good side to get his way and the man had been ready for his betrayal.

  
After seeing the burned girl and her mother he wasn’t so sure he still wanted his freedom, not at the cost of the people, but as the distrustful looks continued to follow him, he grew cold towards them. He had done them no ill, they could stand to give him a fair try.  
It was with this in mind that when Hanzo asked him what job he would prefer, he had chosen farming. At least out under the brutal sun he was away from most of their distaste and angry glances. The other man had blinked at his decision, but McCree had shrugged.

  
“Been a farm hand before, it is honest work, though a little dull. Figure I could use a bit of dull at the moment,” he explained.

  
“Dull is better than dead,” Hanzo said cryptically but the meaning to Jesse was clear, ‘behave or else.’ Jesse was smart enough to know it wasn’t an ideal threat.

  
“Jesse has decided he will be working along side of you,” Hanzo said as way of an introduction. “Jesse, this is Reinhart,” he indicated a large man, “Reyes,” the dark skinned man with angry scars on his face that was glaring daggers at him, “and Jack,” the last man was the only one who looked like he had been on a farm before, though he also glared at Jesse with obvious suspicion.

  
“Howdy,” Jesse greeted.

  
“Hallo,” The large man, Reinhardt greeted.

  
“Been on a farm before, rookie?” Jack asked, crossing his arm and examining Jesse.

  
“Yes sir,” Jesse answered, feeling nervous, though he could not place exactly why. Perhaps it was because Reyes had still not stopped glaring at him.

  
“But being a horse thief is more exciting, isn’t it, cowboy?” The man finally spoke.

  
“I ain’t a horse thief,” McCree objected.

  
“You landed up here with a stolen horse below you and a pose of men on your back,” Reyes said calmly.

  
“Because I am a bank robber. Robbing banks don’t hurt people. I stole the horse, but I left them mine and change curtesy of the men they killed,”

  
“But you are a killer, I can see it in your eyes,” Reyes continued.

  
“I never killed anyone who would not kill me, given a second,” McCree insisted. Something about Reyes made him angry and defensive. He only calmed when Hanzo put a hand on his shoulder.

  
“Jesse is one of us now regardless of his past. He is here to help grow the food that sustains us and contribute to our small haven of peace.

  
It was with these words that Jesse began working at the farm. It was hard labor, feeding chickens, mucking out pens and feeding animals. The fields were golden and soon it would be harvest time.

Reinhardt warmed to him almost instantly. The large man was German, he informed him and had been a crusader, one of the first lines of defense against the omnic. He had lost an eye for his trouble and all the people he had been fighting with. He had only survived because he could change and escape.

  
“I was a coward and ran. Their screams still haunt me,” Reinhardt confessed as they sat together, an icy pitcher of water and sandwiches balanced between them on a hay bale. “It didn’t endear me to anyone and I was hunted. Had to leave my family, my home. Still I stood against the omnics whenever I met them in the fields. Eventually the military was overrun and hunting me was no longer an option. I made it to America and eventually I found Hanamura,” Reinhardt told him, a far off look in his remaining eye.

  
“It ain’t right,” Jesse muttered, remembering the burnt girl and other memories Hanzo had dug up.

  
“No, it’s not. But it is what it is. We, all of us here have been hunted and hurt by the humans. Hanzo has made a home for us.”

  
“Not for me. I am not wanted here and Hanzo can’t let me go,” Jesse said bitterly before he realized the words had left him.

  
“People will accept you when you stop having notions in your head. Just settle down here, its not so bad. There are some nice girls in town. Make nice and make babies.”

  
McCree snorted despite himself.

  
“I’m not exactly the baby making type.”  
“Some nice lads too. No one will judge you,” Reinhardt amended.

  
“Reyes might. What’s his story? His face... those scars,” Jesse could not fight the chill running down his spine.

  
“No one really knows. He and Jack came here not too long before you and he was that way when he arrived. Their demeanor screams soldier, but Jack knows farming. They bunk together and if startled they will look for each other first. Whatever they went through they are surviving because of the other.”

 

Jesse chewed on this information as they got back to work. He watched the pair closely. Jack did know what he was doing and he was good at covering up that Reyes had no clue. They would always be in sight of each other, would lay reasuring touches when ever they passed one another and grip their hands together when they thought no one was watching.

 

“You and Reyes?” He asked Jack as they carried feed into the barn a few days after he started working on the farm.

  
“Don’t let him hear that accusation,” Jack said grimly. Everything about Jack was grim it seemed.

  
“Nothing to be ashamed of,” Jesse reassured, but Jack wasn’t having it.

  
“When you are on the same squad there is plenty to be ashamed of. Specially if one of your is the commanding officer.”

  
“Even in Overwatch?” Jesse asked. He was gambling, but the surprised look on Jack’s face paid off.

  
“Never knew that Commander Morrison was a werewolf,” Jesse whistled as he dropped his bag and went for the next.

  
“How do you know?” Jack asked, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around.

  
“Who doesn’t know about Commander Morrison, the leader of Overwatch that disappeared a couple of months after the last omnic fell? You were younger back then but I am good with faces and the background fit. I won’t tell your secret, I was just making sure I was right,” Jesse said with a grin as he turned and left.

  
“I never spill my friends’ secrets. We are friends though, aren’t we, Jack?” he said pausing at the door. He didn’t give Jack time to answer, it was something the man needed to dwell on.

 

Two down, one to go. Jesse McCree was making friends as far as he went, whether they wanted to or not.


	10. Chapter 10

Jesse was minding his own business mucking out the pig pen when Reyes hit him full on from behind. In retrospect he should have expected the attack, What with him all but threatening Jack.

The cowboy slid forward, mud going up his nose and he coughed, crawling to his hands and knees. Reyes didn’t give him more time as he kicked him hard in the ass, sending him back face first into the mud.

“You threaten our peace again and I will report you, cowboy,” Reyes sneered, his eyes yellow with rage as Jesse turned on his back to glare at him.

“I wasn’t,” the cowboy protested.

“The hell you weren’t, mentioning Overwatch. We didn’t run and if you think you can use it against us to get that collar off you have another thing coming,” the darker man growled.

“Pretty defensive about it for someone who doesn’t care,” Jesse jeered. He kicked at Reyes’s feet but the man was faster than he was, sidestepping the attempt.

Jesse rolled with the kick, coming upright and lunging at Reyes. They both went down punching.

It was an uneven match, even without the collar. Jesse had never been one for close quarters fighting and Reyes was a trained soldier. Soon he was pinned, his face in the mud once more and his arms pinned behind his back.

“You will regret that,” Reyes growled, spitting bloody siliva into the mud next to Jesse’s head. The cowboy managed to split his lip.

“Let him go Gabe,” Jack Warner from across the yard. Jesse could not be sure how long the man had been there, long enough to allow Reyes to beat him most likely. “Hanzo doesn’t need to punish him further.”

Those words had an effect on Reyes that shocked McCree. The man released him and helped him to his feet.

“Stay out of our business and keep your head down. You don’t know who you are messing with,” Reyes warned, leveling a careful eye At McCree.

“Why are you scared of him, Hanzo?” McCree questioned, his anger dampened by his curiosity. Reyes clearly was t scared of anything.

“He’s not like us. He is not just a werewolf. This place isn’t just a valley.”

“Then let me leave, get rid of me and be done with it.”

“I really don’t think you get It McCree. You can’t leave. It’s not the collar that is making you weak and it is not us keeping an eye on you. You will see tonight when you return to your room in the castle, even if I clean you up, Hanzo will know you have been fighting.”

“How?”

“Because this is his valley.”

Jesse scoffed.  
“Are you telling me he is some kinda… god? You don’t seem like the fanatic type Reyes.”

“No, not a god. Something else. Look just accept that you are here now. It will be easier on you. Besides, what is there to go back to?”

With those words Reyes turned and left, leaving Jesse completely confused.


	11. Chapter 11

 

Jesse’s ribs hurt by the time he made it back to the castle, but it was nothing compared to the fire in his mind.

If Reyes believed that nonsense about Hanzo being in control and knowing everything that happened in the valley did the cowboy even stand a chance to escape?

If Reyes was just messing with him, making up stories to get him to toe the line, was he really willing to give up on his freedom?

Why did he want freedom afterall? What if he just decided that he had the freedom to stay where he was and leave when he felt like it at some later date?

The valley wasn’t that bad and the dark skinned man had been right when he guessed that Jesse had nothing waiting for him on the outside.

As Reinhardt suggested he could find a warm bed in the valley. Someone to sink into and forget all about the collar with. Perhaps ever get them to remove it.

His thoughts returned to Hanzo. He was aiming too high, but something told him that woeing the leader was the only way to get the collar removed, like Reyes suggested in his roundabout fanatic way.

Sinking into bed after cleaning himself up and eating the meal that was waiting for him Jesse made up his mind. He would stop trying to leave the valley for the time being.

His new goal was getting close to Hanzo and getting the collar off. If that meant wanting to stay and make a new live form himself… well what was waiting for him on the outside? Besides maybe Reyes had a point. Hanzo had seen through all his schemes. Maybe he was some kinda god afterall. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must admit I am a little stuck on this... Hanzo has been too good at smacking Jesse’s stupid ideas down and there has not been any hints of romantic possibilities. So if it seems Jesse is just suddenly making a go at being good, he is. But I just need him to right now else this will be attempt to escape sand shot down the whole way through.


	12. Chapter 12

Jesse did his best to fit in over the next couple of weeks. He spoke little to Reyes or Jack, taking orders as they were given and answering questions in return but never speaking unless spoken to. This resonated with the two military men and soon they accepted him as a fixture on the farm, giving him more freedom than he was technically allowed.

Reinhardt, who at first seemed an easy friend proved to be less trusting. Whether he knew all the details about the fight that had occurred between Reyes and McCree or any of the details the cowboy could not guess at, but he did find the large man was more often than not close by.

There wasn’t anything particularly unfriendly to his manner, but having constant eyes on him made Jesse wonder how much he was trusted.

Away from the farm people still seemed to distrust him. The town would go silent as he entered, which he did less frequently. He was settling into the farm and sleeping in the barn became preferable to the room in the castle, besides Hanzo had seemingly vanished.

This through a spanner into the works of Jesse’s plan to get close to the mysterious man, but after a couple of days he realized that this also made him very lonely.

Genji was around, but the scarred man glared daggers whenever he saw the cowboy, making asking about his brother’s location all but impossible.

So it was that Jesse found himself moving himself into the barn. He always traveled light, but settling in with what remained of his possessions stung. A hip flash be now filled with water, his hat, pack with clean clothes, his boots and the serape his mother had made him to keep him warm was all he had. Peacekeeper was with Hanzo, presumably and the only other thing he had was the collar around his neck.

“My life’s a mess,” he sighed as he sank into the straw after another long day of farm work. He had pulled his shirt off, itchy with sweat and longing to a bath but not willing to go to the effort of filling the old metal tub he had used before full of water.

The night was just settling in, hot and stifling so it didn’t seem with the effort, not when he was bone tired.

“Then make something of it,” a voice said in the darkness.

Jesse was surprised to see Genji standing in the doorway of the barn.

“I am working on the farm, aren’t I? For the greater good,” the cowboy shot back in annoyance.

“You are squatting in the barn when my brother has given you a perfectly good room in the castle.”

“I don’t belong there,” Jesse huffed as he sank into the straw again.

“No you don’t,” Genji agreed, much to McCree’s annoyance. “Still, that is were Hanzo has placed you. You should feel honored instead of sulking among the animals.”

“I ain’t sulking,” Jesse protested, but even to his own ears it sounded weak. “Besides I haven’t seen Hanzo in weeks, it can’t be that important to him.”

When Genji didn’t answer with some cutting remark Jesse sat up again to see a conflicted look crossing over the scarred man’s features.

“Hanzo is away on business, but he is very much concerned for your wellbeing,” Genji finally said.

“So he is all seeing and all knowing like… I have been told,” Jesse decided to not mention that it was Reyes was the one who told him this.

Genji blinked at the information and then laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“My brother is not a god, Cowman. We are from a clan of assassins. Watching people and gathering information is what my subordinates do,” Genji said with a chuckle.

“You spy on our own people?” Jesse asked incredulously, one of his eyebrows raised.

“The townsfolk act all high and mighty but a lot of them where a lot worse than you when they showed up here. Not everyone is as friendly and good natured as Reinhardt or as wholesome as Jack seems.”

This was news to Jesse and he knew it shouldn’t have been. Of course not everyone could have been innocent. The war that all but destroyed the world was less than a couple of decades old. People did horrible things back then and it the between years to survive. Still, something bothered Jesse.

“He seemed to know what I was thinking, planning,” he said quietly and Genji stopped laughing.

“We have all planned on escaping before we understood what it meant,” the man said cryptically. He stepped away from the door, approaching Jesse.

“I have been harsh, I need to be. Hanzo has soft spots and I have to protect those, but since he wants you to stay and I haven’t seen any real threat in you I am going to decollar you, but only for tonight and only if you go for a run with me.”

McCree could hardly believe his ears. The man, who was the one who had snapped the collar around his neck was the first one to offer to take it off.

It was suspicious.

“Why?” McCree asked, rising up from the straw. Even suspicious it was an opportunity he didn’t want to miss.

“Lets call it a test. Hanzo would approve of you proving that you can be trusted rather than us deeming you safe,” Genji answered as he walked up to the cowboy and snapped off the collar, dropping it into the straw with McCree’s possessions.

“I can assume the reins are short and your… assassins will be following us.

“You can assume whatever you want.”

With those words Genji slipped off his robe. For a moment Jesse could not comprehend the horror of the body before him. Scars and burns littered the man’s pale form and then he was changed into a large black wolf, and the horror of his flesh was hidden below.

Rather than question McCree slipped his pants off and changed. It was euphoric. If Jesse was honest with himself he enjoyed being a wolf more than a man. Not only was his senses superior, causing even the simplest of smells to explode in colours he couldn’t grasp as a human, but he was also free.

Jesse shook out his dark brown fur before bounding up to Genji, running a circle around the black wolf before play bowing, his tail wagging wildly. Genji rolled his green eyes and set off for the door, Jesse following closely behind, tongue lolling out of his mouth.

The cowboy had been told by the one or two other werewolves he had met in his lonely life that he was a very silly wolf, clearly more dog than wolf. Jesse didn’t much care, it was a simple joy just to be in this form.

Genji led McCree across the farmyard towards the forest. They paused half way across, a noice sending learned fear into Jesse who wants to bolt at the sight of men approaching, but it’s only Reyes and Jack, breaking their stolen kiss as they notice the two wolves.

“Genji, good to see you out,” Reyes calls as Jack hides his face. Even from some distance McCree could smell the two’s desire for each other.

Genji nodded his head and then leapt forward, running for the forest. McCree looked at the pair a moment longer then turned to follow. The frown on Reyes’ face told him all he needed to know. The man had put his identity together.

Smirking to himself Jesse followed Genji. The forest was cool, the underbrush pleasant on his hot paws.

They ran, McCree chasing rabbits and small creatures before a yip from Genji drew him back. It was good to be free, to run wild.

After a too short a time in Jesse’s mind they reached a stream and Genji stopped even as McCree splashed through the water. He felt a push half way through and stopped.

He looked at Genji but the black wolf just watched him with his curious green eyes.  
  
Jesse smelled the air. There was an acidic smell where he stood and in a moment he realized. That’s the smell of the outside world, the world outside of the valley.

Startled McCree jumped back, the air instantly smelling fresher. He peered into the forest beyond the stream. It seemed… deader, duller. As if even in the darkness he could tell that the color was washed out in the world, like a faded painting.

“Are you beginning to understand, cowman?” Genji asked in the darkness behind him. “The valley is alive while the world outside is dying from the omnic crises.”

Jesse changed back to his human form, the water of the stream cold against his heated skin.

“I knew, we all knew but seeing it this way,” he raised his hand and touched the invisible barrier and the. Pressing through. Even the air on his skin felt as if it was burning. He pulled his hand back.

“Do you still want to return? I won’t stop you if you do,” Genji offered. The words were dangerous, Jesse knew he would not be stopped, but then how many paces would his freedom last? Besides why would he want to return to a burning world.  
  
He turned, changing back into his wolf form and splashed back to Genji, who stood naked and pale next to the stream. Instead of changing he steps aside and a large white wolf steps from the trees.

The wolf’s appearance has Jesse freezing, wagging his tail low and unsure, his head dropping.

“He apparently does have a brain in that seemingly empty head of his brother,” Genji said to the large white wolf.

Hanzo threw his head as he approached McCree, his blue eyes flashing when the cowboy glanced up at him.

In wolf form it was even more obvious that Hanzo was superior. He was power, raw and barely contained. Despite his fear and awe Jesse could feel the tip of his penis extend out of his sheath. Power was attractive.

Hanzo pressed his muzzle against Jesse’s, running it down his flank while the other wolf stood still. The white wolf dipped his head, muzzling between McCree’s legs to the cowboy’s horror and flicked his tongue out to taste before withdrawing.

The white wolf walks behind the cowboy and for a moment Jesse is sure Hanzo is going to mount him, there in front of his brother and fuck him senseless in a way that Jesse has never experienced but then he is around and on the cowboy’s other flank.

The cowboy isn’t sure if it is relief of disappointment flooding his system. He had been ready to be taken, was sure it was going to happen and for the moment to slip away felt empty and lost.

“I will leave you brother,” Genji seems to answer an unheard command from Hanzo and the white wolf looks at Jesse, his eyes telling the brown wolf to follow.

Jesse could hardly deny Hanzo and slinks after him into the Forrest. Deeper and deeper they head into the darkness.

Worry eat at McCree’s nerves. He doesn’t know where this powerful wolf is leading him and the forest is growing darker and denser around them. Would Hanzo go to the effort of leading him away to hurt or even kill him? Jesse could not be sure.

They come to a small cleaning and Hanzo changes, stepping naked and beautiful into the pale moonlight breaking through the trees.

“You have nothing to fear Jesse. I simply thought you would like some privacy away from Genji,” Hanzo said when Jesse hesitated on the edge of the clearing.

McCree shifted back, covering himself with his hands, feeling self conscious. Hanzo had licked his arousal and now stood before him naked. Jesse McCree had experiences some strange things in his life but this was a new thing entirely.

Hanzo chuckled.

“Shy or ashamed of your desire?” Hanzo asked with a tilt of his head.

“What the fuck was that back there?”

“Ah, upset then. I merely tasted what you offered.”

“I wasn’t offering you anything, you bastard.”

“Oh, so you were not lifting your tail for me. Or dropping your shoulders because you wanted me to mount.”

There was no mocking or maliciousness in those words, only curiosity. This wasn’t Hanzo making fun, only asking for his true feelings.

“I…” Jesse began and then stopped. What had he wanted in that moment? For the white wolf to make him his, to dominate him. He wanted Hanzo now too.

As if reading these thoughts Hanzo came closer, pushing Jesse’s hands away and taking hold of his growing arousal, working the member into hardness.

“Fuck…,” Jesse moaned, clinging to Hanzo, seeking his mouth. Their kiss was sloppy, needy. Jesse reaches for the white wolf’s member and the moan from Hanzo had him nearly over the edge.

“Want you to make me your,” Jesse moaned, unable to help himself. The words made Hanzo stop instantly. He pulled away from a confused McCree.

“I am influencing you,” Hanzo muttered as he turned from the cowboy.

“Like hell,” McCree answered, going to touch Hanzo but the man steps further away.

“Did you want to have sex with me, for me to dominate you before tonight?” Hanzo asked, turning his eyes searching McCree’s for an answer. For the first time he seemed vulnerable.

McCree paused. Had he? He had wanted to seduce Hanzo to escape, but was that because he was appealing. Hanzo was attractive. There was no way around that fact.

“You are very handsome and I would have thought about it sooner if I didn’t consider myself a prisoner,” Jesse answered.

This was not the answer Hanzo was apparently looking for.

“My heat is making you submissive,” he said by way of explanation.

“Heat is just a myth,” Jesse dismissed. He had heard of heats, of wolves influencing those around them with their smell into having sex. It had to do with having babies and increasing the numbers of a stable pack. “Besides we are both male.”

Hanzo shook his head, as if he was dealing with a child who didn’t understand a maths problem.

“It is very much a real thing Jesse, at least to my kind. I am sorry I was taking advantage of you,” the white wolf apologized, looking tired and sad before turning into a wolf and bounding into the forest.

“Well fuck,” Jesse breathed, sitting down hard in the grass. “What the actual fuck was that all about?” He asked the empty clearing. Whatever had just happened it had shown him a human side to their leader he was eager to explore.

Besides he wanted to hear that moan again and finish what they started, preferably before getting some answers.

Since the outside world had now lost it’s appeal, at least for the moment, McCree intended to find out everything about Hanzo and just why he thought he was different. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must admit I was floundering with this and I don’t know if I am happy with the Heat explanation since I am not planning on making this an alpha beta omega fic. It is very much a myth like Jesse said, just to make sure no one gets their hopes up. I am also dreadfully behind on NaNoWriMo even with my other writing and I am not sure how this is going, having basically just finished a fic I absolutely loved writing. Maybe I am just burned out and forcing it is not a good idea but I am this far now... maybe I am just moaning.


	13. Chapter 13

Honest talk. I am not feeling this. I think the core idea has merit. I think. But this just feels like Jesse having an angry struggle and well... that’s dull. I am going to have to rework this and I don’t think I am in the right frame of mind and health at the moment to get this right. I am not abandoning this, like I said it has merit but it’s not going how I want it to. I want my writing to be fun and this is anything but. So I am going to put a pin on this and do something else. I will come back to this, just not right now.


End file.
